


This One’s Mine, Sir

by CaptainC_Ham



Series: Alexander Hamilton Central [2]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: (I mean I tried to write romance but pfft who I am kidding I probably failed), (if you listen to hamilton though you'll be fine), (kind of), (kind of? is this technically a date?), (sort of? it's not swearing but still words you can't really say in like school), Alternate Universe - Middle School, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Romance, Awkward Romance, Bullying, Crying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, First Dates, First Kiss, Hurt Alexander Hamilton, Hurt/Comfort, Insecure Maria Reynolds, James Reynolds is a dick, Light Angst, Mild Language, Name-Calling, Romance, School Dances, Spring Fling, This Is STUPID, Young Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-14
Updated: 2017-10-14
Packaged: 2019-01-17 10:57:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12364215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainC_Ham/pseuds/CaptainC_Ham
Summary: Tonight was supposed to the night of Maria’s dreams, or, at least, as close as she was going to get in middle school. Alexander Hamilton had asked her to the spring fling and she had, of course, accepted. Everything was going well, until something, of course, happened.That something was one James Reynolds.





	This One’s Mine, Sir

Everyone was probably wondering what a gorgeous, sought-after girl like Maria Lewis was doing with disliked foster kid Alexander Hamilton. But in Maria’s mind, she couldn’t understand what _Alex_ saw in _her_. She still couldn’t get over the shock from that one lunch period two weeks ago, when Alex had gathered enough courage to ask her to the spring fling...in the middle of the cafeteria, with everyone watching! He had risked _everything_ — not that he had much to begin with — just to test his luck with her. If she had declined, he would have been publicly humiliated and the laughingstock of Yorktown Middle School. But she never would have declined; she had been crushing on the Creole emigrant for weeks now, silently admiring his genius from afar. Maria was still surprised she had had her wits about her enough to say, “Of course I’ll go with you.” She was definitely glad she did, though, because she was genuinely enjoying herself in the gymnasium with Alex.

     The lights were off, the music was on, and the kids were everywhere. They were loudly screaming at each other, they were whispering unknown words that made each other giggle and guffaw, they were dancing, they were singi— they were screeching the lyrics of the songs they recognized, they were eating, drinking, hanging out, and having a great time. Since they were still in middle school, there was only a semi-formal dress code, so nobody was wearing anything fancy like a tux or a frilly dress. A handful of girls were wearing skirts, though. Maria had settled on some capris, paired with a matching clean-cut shirt. Worrying she was too plain, however, she had done up her hair in a slightly fancy ’do, and all evening Maria had worried Alex would think she was underdressed or her outfit and her hair didn’t go together. Maria’s concerns were put to rest when Alex had met Maria at the front doors and he, too, was dressed almost casually but with a gelled-up, smoothed-down hairstyle. Perhaps he had also been fretting over Maria’s thoughts on his appearance, since the two of them took a good look at each other and giggled.

     So far, Maria and Alex had just sat at a table in the corner with some biscuits, punch, and conversation. As they watched their schoolmates wreak havoc in the gym, the two probably only civil students right now talked to each other. Small talk was never one of Maria’s stronger suits, but with Alexander Hamilton, small talk never stayed “small”. Before Maria knew what was happening, Alex was going on and on about the student council and their recent decisions.

     Without thinking, Maria blurted out, “I didn’t know you were in the student council.”

     Alex halted his rant and bit his lip. “I, unfortunately, am not,” he confessed with an exaggerated exhalation. “I wish I was, but I simply don’t think many people would be very...welcoming. The council is mostly made up of my enemies, after all.”

     Maria raised her eyebrows. “There are, like, a dozen student council members, not including homeroom reps,” she pointed out. “How could most of them be your enemies?”

     Alex seemed to blush at that, though it was difficult to tell in a room with the only lighting being the moonlight from outside and the flashing colours from the DJ’s stand. “I’m not very proficient at making friends,” he said, “though you can probably tell from my utter lack of them. But I have quite the talent of forming enemies. Sometimes I get over-excited, shoot off at the mouth, and since I’ve never had a group of friends before, I don’t exactly know how I’m supposed to act. I think I actually scared Burr off with my talkativeness. But then there are some people who are just dickheads, like Jefferson and Madison. Okay, so Madison’s not that bad, but he follows Jefferson around like a — ”

     Maria interrupted, once again speaking without thinking. “Why do you do that?” she inquired.

     Alex gave her a quizzical look. “Do...what?” he questioned.

     Maria felt her face heating up and talked quickly so she could hopefully get over her embarrassment. “Why do you call everyone by their last names?” she elucidated. “You called Thomas ‘Jefferson’ and James ‘Madison’ and Aaron ‘Burr’. Why?”

     Alex shrugged half-heartedly. “We did it a lot in the orphanage,” he said. An awkward silence lapsed over them, and Maria knew Alex wouldn’t elaborate.

     “Well, you’re here now,” said Maria with a fake air of boldness, though her true meek self still made her throat dry and her ears hot. “So you can call everyone by their first names. Look, I’ll help you get used to introductions and stuff.”

     Alex gave her another strange look, but Maria swallowed and went on. Sticking her hand out, she stuttered, “You seem like a man of honour, and I’m so sorry to bother you right now, but my heart’s been beating hard. And then suddenly, my fear is gone, and I don’t really know how to go on but, uh, hi. I, um...I’m Maria.”

     Alex grinned, chuckled affectionately, and took her hand. “Hello, _Maria_ ,” he played along, emphasizing the first name. “Your heart’s being awfully rude, so I offer my services to you, ma’am, in whatever way I can.”

     Maria was blushing, but she hoped the darkness was enough to conceal it from her date. “You’re too kind,” she replied, and added a “sir” to mirror Alex’s “ma’am”.

     The two laughed and Alex reached for his cup to drink from it, but Maria quickly grabbed it out of his hand. At his questioning look, she explained, “This one’s mine, Alex, the other one’s yours.”

     “Oh, thanks,” he said, grabbing the other cup. He angled his head back and began to drink from it. Maria felt a corner of her lips quirking up with the urge to smile as she watched Alex’s Adam’s Apple bob up and down, her heart light for seemingly no reason except for pure happiness.

     That is, until she saw James Reynolds, the most famous boy at school, sauntering over to their secluded area. Fear, the usual kind she often got that froze her limbs but quickened her heartbeat, seized Maria at the sight of the boy who ran many’s blood cold. He was popular, yes, and doted on by teachers, indeed, but almost half of the student body couldn’t stand the presence of this particular eighth-grader.

     Maria swallowed to get rid of the dryness in her throat so she could speak up to warn Alex or tell off James. James only bothered to toss Maria his vexatious wink/smirk combo before turning his attention to the unsuspecting boy on her left. Before Maria could work up the courage to cry out, James lightly but surely tipped Alex’s cup upward. Maria made a strangled noise as Alex choked and sat up quickly, some punch dribbling out of his mouth and onto his shirt, and some more of it from inside the cup splashing onto his pants and their table with the sudden movement.

     An obnoxious guffaw escaped James’s mouth as the boy in question withdrew his arm. Maria watched the look of irritation on Alex’s face extinguish when he looked up to see who had messed with him; not surprising, of course, since standing above Alex was the infamous James Reynolds, known for his family’s riches and his own accomplishments among the football team. It was indeed clichéd, except for the fact that he didn’t have a cheerleader girlfriend, though he did _want_ one. And he wanted Maria Lewis in particular.

     James scrutinized Alex, his mouth upturned in a look of contempt before that morphed into a teasing smirk. “What?” the brown-eyed menace snickered. “Cat gotcha tongue, tomcat?”

     Out of the corner of her eye, Maria caught Alex’s fists clench underneath the table; the insult was not so much _insulting_ as it was annoying, but the nickname “tomcat” would definitely get under Alex’s skin. James must have seen too, since he laughed boisterously, attracting some unwanted attention from kids nearby. “Ooh, you angry now, _bastard_?” taunted James, spitting out the even unkinder insult at the end.

     Alex stood up, undoubtedly to punch the lights out of James, and Maria knew this was going to get bloody. Even though she saw the good part of Alex that not many others recognized, she couldn’t dismiss Alex’s hotheadedness and short temper. For one moment, she was able to shove back her fear far enough to grab his wrist in an attempt to stop him. Maria felt his muscles tense and readied herself for the slap or punch that would surely come, but all Alex did was look back at her and soften, like he had seen the apprehension and the pleading in her eyes. He allowed his shoulders to drop, and in turn Maria tentatively let go of his wrist.

     That seemed to rile James up more than any punch could. “How romantic!” he mocked them in a sarcastically sweet voice. Then he shook it off and snarled, “I betcha you think you’re romantic, huh, Charity Case?”

     James was beginning to step forward, which made Alex step back. Eventually, James had pushed Alex up against the wall, and Maria was still frozen in her seat by terror and uncertainty: Even if she managed to scrape together the audacity to stand up to James, what would and could she do?

     “News flash, news flash!” snarked James, still towering over the poor seventh-grader. “You’re not! You’re just an annoying, orphaned bastard!”

     Then things did get ugly, but not the fists and feet flying kind: James turned Alex’s best weapon, best defence — words — against him.

     “Your mom was a freaking whore, you Creole bastard,” hissed the bully, “and I bet you inherited her sluttiness. Stay away from Maria, or you’ll eventually cheat on her and break her heart! I don’t get how an obnoxious loudmouth like you could go on and on and grow into more of a...of a...a _phenomenon_ like this! Don’t forget from where you came ’cause the world’s never gonna accept your name.”

     “I... I...” Alex was at a loss, which made James laugh even more. Even James, a C-average student who sorely lacked common sense, could see Alex’s speechlessness was a victory for him. It made Maria wonder if James had been bottling this up, planning it out, since Alex had asked Maria to be his date. There was no way James had just thought of his whole rant now, on the spot. He obviously had done his research, too. Most of what James had thrown in Alex’s face was common knowledge, but some bits of information must have been either private or made up, because Maria had not known about those parts of his past.

     “I should head back home,” mumbled the immigrant, and Maria could tell just by the shakiness in his voice that his heart and soul and fluency in unbelievably clever comebacks were all crushed. He must’ve felt so small in such a big room, cornered by such a big kid. _Everything_ would feel too big and if Alex was anything like Maria, he would be having trouble breathing right then.

     James crowed with laughter but didn’t move out of the way. Looking worryingly wobbly, Alex shoved James with a rather surprising amount of force and rushed out of the gymnasium, stumbling all the way. James’s surprised “Oof!”, which was followed by a muttered curse, was loud enough that Maria was certain Alex heard. James called out, “Yeah, ya best run back where ya come from!” Maria knew it was probably for show, since the gym’s metal doors had already slammed shut.

     Lips parted in shock, Maria went through what had just happened, and she slowly filled up with hatred, though that would be no surprise to anyone with all the fuel she had for such feelings. She had hated every second of James’s verbal beating. She hated every word that escaped his bruised lips (injured probably from football or fights). She had hated every step James took that pushed Alex further back. She had hated every time Alex shrunk into himself a little more. She hated every new shade of fear, horror, and grief that appeared in Alex’s brilliant brown eyes. She hated everything James was doing and saying to Alex. And, yet, she didn’t — she _couldn’t_ — defend Alex.

     What took place following James’s bullying also played in Maria’s mind: She had watched James fall to the floor on his spoilt little arse, watched him grimace as pain blossomed under his hips, watched her date flee the room in a panic, watched the straggler students nearby watch _her_.

     James slowly stood, wincing every time he accidentally leaned one way or another too much. With an awkward gait, James made his way to Maria from a good yard away. He smiled cheekily, triumphantly, at her and drawled, “Well, now that the cowardly lion’s gone, we can finally — ”

     This time, Maria was glad she didn’t think before interrupting another boy. Her anger had flared up, that was all, and it was so hot it burnt away her fear, even going so far as to turn her whole face a tinge of furious red. The tendrils of her choleric flame licked at James, who recoiled as he instinctively lifted a few unsteady fingers to the red handprint on his face. His eyes widened and his mouth opened, probably to be an ass, but Maria’s temper had already been freed with an intent to maim.

     “I’m slow to anger, James, but you’ve pushed me to the line,” she growled as she hurriedly gathered her and Alex’s belongings. “I look back at when I failed to keep my anger in, and in every place I checked, I see you and your stupidity. Now, you call Alex a wh— a horrible name, many of them and many times actually, but if you’ve got something to say, say it to the mirror and your own face!”

     “Uh, I...” Now James was the one too stunned to muster up a response, and Maria sneered, which was very much unlike her, but she had had enough of James Reynolds.

     “What? Cat got your tongue?” she hissed before making her exit. That dance was boring anyway, and now she had to find Alex. But the school was a relatively large place, so Maria didn’t know where to look.

     Forcing herself to think of hints, Maria recalled Alex saying that he should be heading home, which means he’s either left the building or is about to. And Maria knew where he would exit: Before this whole spring fling debacle started, the only times Maria would see Alex was briefly during lunch, during English class, and at the end of the day, when Maria was still shouldering her way past seventh- and eighth-graders to her locker and when Alex was somehow already packed up and leaving.

     Maria hurried to where she hoped Alex would be, and, sure enough, he was. Except he wasn’t walking or, even, standing: He was sitting up against the wall to Maria’s left, cross-legged but with his knees by his chest as if frozen in the butterfly stretch, his head bowed down so low it had to be a literal pain in the neck, with his hands clamped over his ears as he shook head to toe and cried tears and nonsensical murmurings alike.

     Maria’s heart broke as she dropped to her knees by Alex’s side, placing their items on her other side. “Alex?” she whispered, reaching her hand out to gently brush some of his long hair out of the way of her view of his face. Alex glanced at Maria from the corner of his eyes, but just as quickly looked back down at the floor. His breathing was erratic, but he seemed to be able to respond perfectly fine to Maria, so he probably — hopefully — wasn’t suffering a panic attack; perhaps his heart-wrenching sobbing was simply getting in the way of proper breathing.

     Maria knew, panic attack or not, Alex’s troubled breathing had to be fixed, and before she could get him to focus, she had to get him to calm down. “I... You know I don’t believe any of the crap he said, right?” she reassured her date and watched as Alex’s attention shifted from the floor to her. “He’s a jerk, and he had no right to say any of that. He doesn’t know you, or — ”

     “But he does,” interjected Alex, his tone panicky and his words rushed, but Maria deemed the talking to be a pro that outweighed the con right now. “He was right about everything. I _am_ a Creole bastard, a son of a — ”

     Maria stopped Alex there by grabbing his right hand and pulling it down from the side of his head. She intertwined her fingers with his and scooted closer so that their knees would touch if he lowered his to a regular criss-cross-applesauce position. “He knows your information, not you,” she argued. “If he did, he wouldn’t have attacked you. You’re kind and loyal and generous and really, really smart. Who would say such mean things to a person like that?”

     Alex didn’t answer, though he was probably busy with trying to stop bawling. Maria realized that by speaking up just then and talking so quickly, he had probably destabilized his breathing even more. At least his head was held a little higher and his left arm has been lowered to nervously scratching at the floor.

     “You know why he picked on you?” continued Maria. Alex looked up again, though he only made eye contact for a split second before he stared intently at their interlocked hands.

     Not needing an answer, Maria went on: “You’re special, but not in a bad way, even if you or other people think it’s bad. You’re an immigrant and a foster kid, but that only means you’ve worked a lot harder and gone through so much more stuff than most of us. Your parents aren’t around anymore, but that just means you’ve got an even bigger family. You’re a genius and good with words and selfless.” Maria hesitated, which made Alex make eye contact again, but this time he held his gaze. For some reason, that gave Maria the courage to say, “A–And, out of all the boys in this school, including James, I wanted to go to the spring fling...with you.”

     Alex bit his lip and quickly looked down, probably to hide his burning face, but something burned in _Maria_ — a hopeful wish, a deep-rooted longing — and that something drove her forward. She gently placed the tips of her fingers on Alex’s chin and lifted his head up. “I... Do you understand, Alex?” she said softly. “I wanted to be with you.”

     Alex, for once, seemingly did not feel the need to use his words. Instead, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to Maria’s, and it was everything Maria had dreamed of, and then some. And to this day, Maria was still surprised she had had her wits about her enough to kiss her date, her Alex, back.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Okay, I’ve had this in my WiPs for months now, because I was still highly unsure I was nailing this. I still doubt I have, but I don’t want to hang onto this and not do anything with it for any longer.
> 
> For one thing, I have next to no experience with school dances (at least, those in U.S.A.), so, uh... Yeeeeeeeah, have no idea how those work.
> 
> Anyway, so... This is not my best work, so feel free to (respectfully) point out any mistakes, grammatical or otherwise.


End file.
